Memories
by magic10
Summary: Set after the Society of the Blind Eye episode. Fiddleford McGucket tries to remember who he used to be. What happened? This was a one shot.
1. Chapter 1

**NA: **Gina McGucket is based on this picture

post/102338500064/first-try-at-drawing-a-mrs-mcgucket-i-have-such-a

and this conversation

post/102347348095/oh-my-gosh-phuz-you-practically-friggen-slapped-me-in

* * *

><p>It hurt more than Fiddleford would have thought possible. Each new fragment of a forgotten life tortured him. The friends whose names and faces he could no longer recall, the mistakes he'd made, the family he'd let down. In his stupidity and cowardice he'd hurt so many people. Each new memory was like a dagger to the heart.<p>

However, the pain was better than the alternative. Fiddleford had done things that he could never forgive himself for, but he would never try to forget them again. Running away from his problems and erasing them from his memory hadn't made them go away. It had just made them worse and caused him to hurt more people.

So, even though the memories were painful, Fiddleford clung to every new one he got back. He tried to undo some of the damage he'd done. He was trying to make amends with his son, although he wasn't even sure if that was possible any more.

Fiddleford had quickly discovered that anything could set off a new memory and help reconnect a little more with his past. He'd taken to wandering around town, trying to find places that felt familiar.

* * *

><p>The smell of pine on Manly Dan's axe had triggered a memory about going on a hunting trip with his ex-wife's (then fiancée) brothers. It hadn't helped him remember any of their names but he did remember their laughter at his unwillingness to kill a rabbit.<p>

* * *

><p>The library had given him the fuzzy memories of hours spent researching. He couldn't remember anything specific but there had been another man there too. He didn't remember the man's name but he was sure they'd been working together. They'd been … researching the supernatural? Sometimes there had been a third man trying to help or annoy them. While Fiddleford couldn't remember what either of them had looked like, he <em>thought<em> they'd looked very similar.

* * *

><p>The sound of music brought back a conversation. He couldn't remember who it was with but he'd been happy at the time.<p>

"Yo Nerd," they'd said, "you finished on your latest gadget yet?"

"Not yet Moron, so not touching," he'd told them.

"But I _wannnnnnna_," the other man had moaned, then grinned, "Come on Doc, you've been down here all day, you need to eat at some point."

* * *

><p>In the bowling ally, Fiddleford remembered a family evening out with friends. He, his wife and their son had been on a team against… he couldn't really remember. Had the two people he almost remembered working with been on the other team? He was sure there had been a child on the other team as well but… no, he couldn't quite remember.<p>

* * *

><p>The taste of pancakes had given Fiddleford back the face of his ex-wife and her laugh.<p>

He remembered sitting across a small table from her, while their son sat in a high chair covered in baby food. He'd been telling her about the previous day when his two colleagues… two friends? had dragged him into some sort of trouble. She'd laughed and said that if they didn't take better care of him, she'd have to have words with them.

He'd said, "Oh, I don't think you need to do that. They're still quaking in their boots from the last time you told them off, Gina."

Fiddleford's breath caught in his throat as the memory ended and he found himself sat alone in a booth at Greasy's Diner.

Gina… his wife had been called Gina. She'd been the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. He'd loved her _so_ much. How could he have allowed let himself forget that?

Fiddleford wiped tears from his eyes as he wondered how long she'd stayed once he'd started to go mad. What had finally driven her away? How much had he unintentionally hurt her with his insanity? He racked his memory but it didn't tell him anything new. Maybe one day he would remember everything and he could tell her how sorry he was.

* * *

><p>He wandered into the graveyard and was hit by the memory of fear.<p>

Fiddleford had been running for his life from… something, but he hadn't been as quick as the two men who'd also been sprinting with him. They'd both grabbed one of his arms and picked him up as they kept running.

"Put me down!" he'd yelled indignantly, even through his fear.

"Oh, don't worry," one of them had panted, "we'll put you down if it catches us. When I say 'put you down,' what I really mean is throw you at it so we can get away."

* * *

><p>Fiddleford was standing in a lab. There was a howling wind dragging at him that was coming from some sort of portal. He was pouring fuel into a machine that fed it. Once all the fuel was emptied into the machine, he joined the two other men in the lab. They were laughing and joking.<p>

Fiddleford was practically bouncing with excitement, "I can't believe we're actually going to do this! If this works, it's going to change everything!"

"Calm down, Fiddleford," one of them said. Fiddleford's eyes darted to him. Something had sounded… _off_ about his voice and this man never called him Fiddleford. Then he shrugged, sure that he'd imagined it. "We all know what this could mean."

"Yes, yes, I know, Stanford. I'm just excited. Are you guys sure I shouldn't be the one to go through?"

"No offence," the third man (so like his twin in appearance) said, as he tied a rope around tightly around his waist, "but if this thing leads to some sort of hell dimension, I think I'd have a better chance of getting back safely. I don't fancy explaining to Gina how you were eaten by a monster from dimension X. Besides, we don't know if any of your gadgets will survive the trip. The rat's cage was pretty mangled when we pulled it back though."

"But the rat _itself_ was fine," Fiddleford said, and then grinned, "but I take your point, Stanley. Besides, I know I have to stay on this side and keep the machine working in case anything goes wrong."

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to keep me safe."

"Hey!"

"You know what I mean, Stan!"

As Stanley walked towards the portal, his brother Stanford held onto the end of the rope that was tied around his waist. The wind was dragging harder than ever now and Fiddleford ran to the controls so that he could keep a closer eye on the readouts.

"Wish me luck!" Stanley yelled as he reached the portal.

"Good luck!" Fiddleford and Stanford both called back as he stepped though. The readings on the machine went crazy for a moment and then settled down again.

"The readings seem to be the same as for the animals we sent though," he told Stanford. Stanford laughed, it wasn't a nice or kind sound and Fiddleford's head whipped around just in time to see Stanford let go of the rope.

Fiddleford screamed at him in horror and confusion as the wind dragged the rope towards the portal. He scrambled after it desperately, trying to catch the end before it was too late. He had almost caught it when he was tackled to the ground.

He kicked and struggled under the weight of Stanford but it was no use, he couldn't get out and he could only watch as the rope disappeared forever.

"What the _hell_ are you doing!?" he screamed, he was panicking and struggling to breathe under the weight of the other man but all he cared about was trying to save the man who'd gone though the portal. "Get off me. Stanford, we need to help him."

Stanford got up, dragging Fiddleford with him by the collar of his lab coat. It was only then that he noticed that Stanford's eyes were glowing yellow and he had slits for pupils. He screamed in fear and tried to pull away as the other man began to drag him towards the portal. The thing with his friend's face gave an inhuman laugh and said, "Sorry Llama but Fez isn't here right now."

* * *

><p>Fiddleford woke drenched in a cold sweat. He was shaking in fear and terror and breathing hard.<p>

_No, no, no, no_, he thought in horror, _why didn't I realise what was happening? How did I not realise he wasn't Stanford? I shouldn't have let __Stanley__ go though that portal. I should have saved him. I should have saved them, I should have saved them, I should have saved them…_

It took Fiddleford hours to calm down. The guilt and horror of what had happened 30 years ago hit him as freshly as if it had only just happened. He wondered how he'd survived that night but his memory was still blank after Bill, using Stanford's body, had started to drag him towards the portal.

The memories hurt but he wasn't going to run away again. He had to try and make amends.

* * *

><p>Stan watch as Dipper and Mabel ran outside laughing with Soos as the three of them went off to play laser tag again. It was nice to see his niece and nephew doing something that wasn't potentially life threatening for once.<p>

He looked around for Wendy but, yet again, she was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, he went behind the counter to man the till. Just as he was sitting down someone walked through the door. Grunkle Stan crossed his arms and his eyes narrowed when he saw who it was.

"What do you want, McGucket?" he asked more aggressively than he'd intended. The other man just stood there looking at him and not saying anything. "Well?"

Fiddleford took a deep breath then asked, "Stanford, what happened to Stanley?"

Stan's breath caught in his throat. His eyes quickly ran up and down Fiddleford as he really looked at him for the first time since he'd entered the shack. He was cleaner than Stan had remembered seeing him in years; his gaze was steady and held none of the madness Stan had grown used to seeing there. Now he thought about it, Stan realised that there hadn't been any large robot attacks recently either.

He knew it couldn't be his friend. He'd lost the Fiddleford the same night he'd lost his brother. Technically, Fiddleford had gone mad a few weeks later but it was because of that night. The night Stan had made a stupid deal that had cost him everything.

He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up but he couldn't help it. In a small, slightly hesitant voice, as if the answer could kill him, he asked, "That you, Nerd?"

Fiddleford shrugged, not sure how to answer and said, "Maybe, I think I'm closer than I have been in a long time. I… oof" he was cut off as Stan ran around the counter and tackled him in an almost bone crushing hug.

"I missed you, Nerd," Stan told him.

"Can't… breathe," Fiddleford gasped.

"Oh sorry," Stan said letting go.

"Moron," Fiddleford said once he'd got his breath back and Stan grinned at his old nickname, "I wish I could say that I'd missed you too but it would be a lie. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long but I think I'm coming back."


	2. Chapter 2

"So what happened?" Stan asked once both he and Fiddleford were sat in the living room. He'd actually shut the Mystery Shack early so that he could make himself and his old friend some coffee. "When did you start remembering things, what made you remember and how much do you remember?"

"I can only remember bits and pieces so far," Fiddleford told him, "but it's starting to come back. I remember that I was married to Gina and how happy we were before I ruined everything, I remember that you and I used to work together with your brother on… something, we were friends, you call me Nerd and I called you Moron and… I _think_ you used to call the three of us the Mystery Trio?"

Stan snorted, "Yeah, you'd always say it was a stupid name and I'd laugh."

Fiddleford sat quietly for a moment trying to remember. With a small sigh, he shook his head, "I'll have to take your word for that."

Stan felt a lump in his throat but he ignored it. He was happy that Fiddleford remembered anything at all.

"What jogged your memory?"

"I have your niece and nephew and your staff to thank for that," Fiddleford said.

"What?" Stan asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. As happy as he was that Fiddleford was remembering things, he wasn't pleased to know Dipper and Mabel had been meddling again. Why couldn't Dipper leave the mysteries of Gravity Falls alone and stop dragging himself and Mabel into danger?

"They came to me with one of our old journals," Fiddleford said, not noticing the reaction his answer had provoked, "they thought I'd written it. I had no idea what they were talking about so they decided something must have happened to make me forget. Then we took on an evil cult – called the Society of the Blind Eye – that I'd accidentally created thirty years ago. We destroyed the cult and erased the memories of its existence from the minds of all its members. I found a copy of my memories and since then I've been trying to remember who I used to be."

Stan couldn't hold back a groan. "Not that I'm not pleased you're getting your memory back, but why do Dipper and Mabel have to run towards danger all the time? As for Wendy and Soos, they should have known better… well Wendy should have but she'd do anything to get out of doing a little work. I knew I shouldn't have given Dipper back that journal."

"Why don't you just tell them the truth?" Fiddleford asked, "they'd stop looking for answers if they knew."

"Because I don't want them getting involved in things any more than they already are. I'm supposed to be looking after them. I'd never forgive myself if they got hurt on my watch. I can't…" his voice faltered, "I can't lose them too. Even if I did want to tell them the truth, I wouldn't know where to start anymore. I haven't spoken about what happened for years now. Besides, the less they know the safer they'll be."

Fiddleford smiled weakly, "They're smart kids but reckless too. They remind me of another pair of twins I once knew."

"And just look how _that_ turned out," Stan said bitterly, "if I'd been a little bit more careful…" His hands balled into fists and his eyes lost focus as his mind was lost in a past Fiddleford could barely remember.

"Stanford," Fiddleford said but Stan didn't respond, "Moron." Stan jumped slightly and his hands relaxed.

"Sorry, I… sorry," he took a deep shuddering breath, "I'm sorry Fiddles."

Fiddleford winced, "You _know_ I hate it when you call me that…" he stopped as he was hit by a sudden wave of memories of being called stupid nicknames by Stan and he grinned. "Hey, I remember I hated being called that! That's a new memory… or an old one… oh, who cares? I remember!"

"Of course you hated me calling you nicknames," Stan said with a smile, "I wouldn't have kept calling you them all if you hadn't gotten so adorably annoyed at me every time I did, Nerd. After a while you stopped reacting to or acknowledging me if I called you anything other than Fiddleford or Nerd."

"Well I didn't mind it when you called me that, Moron," Fiddleford said.

"So when did you start getting your memories back?" Stan asked.

"The twins, Soos, Wendy and I took down the Blind Eye last Wednesday. I've been wandering around town since then trying to jog my memory," Fiddleford told him, "last night I finally remembered a little bit about what happened thirty years ago."

"How much do you remember?" Stan asked the lump was back in his throat as guilt, regret and sadness threatened to choke him.

"We were working on some sort of portal," Fiddleford said, "I don't know where it went to or what it was for but we thought it was important at the time. Stanley went through. You were holding onto the end of a rope that was tied to him so that he could get back but it wasn't really you. Someone called… Bill?" Stan nodded, "was controlling you or pretending to be you and he let go of the rope. I couldn't reach it in time and the rope disappeared through the portal. The last thing I remember about that night is Bill dragging me towards the portal. I don't know what happened next or how I survived."

"I'm sorry, Nerd," Stan said in a small voice, "it was all my fault. I made a stupid deal and it cost me everything. I didn't mean for any of this. I never thought anyone would get hurt. I should have realised it was a trap."

"I remember just enough to know that Bill was bad news. He could trick anyone into making a deal with him if he wanted them to," Fiddleford said as reassuringly as he could but then he frowned, "I should have realised he wasn't you though. I was supposed to be the smart one… or I think I was. I don't… I don't remember any more," his face crumpled, "I'm sorry I made myself forget. I was a coward."

"No," Stan said forcefully, "none of this was your fault. It was me, it was always my fault and I'm so sorry. I tried to put it right you know." He didn't mention his private project under the Mystery Shack. Fiddleford had only just started to remember things. He didn't want to scare him off again so instead he said, "When you first lost your memory, I tried so hard to make you remember."

"Really?" Fiddleford asked, touched.

"'Course I did," Stan said rolling his eyes, "you were my best friend."

"What did happen that night?" Fiddleford asked, "why didn't I end up being dragged through the portal?"

"Well…" Stan started to say but he stopped when he heard the front door to the shack opening and Dipper and Mabel's voices, "damn, they're back quicker than I thought." He looked over at Fiddleford imploringly. "Please don't tell them I helped create the journals."

Fiddleford nodded just as Mabel rushed into the room laughing, followed by a limping Dipper who looked very disgruntled. Mabel stopped when she saw Fiddleford and smiled, "Hi Mr. McGucket," she said brightly, "we just went to visit you at the dump but you weren't there because you were here. Dipper got chased by a racoon. He screamed really loudly."

"I didn't scream and it didn't chase me," Dipper said sullenly, "I gave a manly shout of surprise and then moved away from a wild animal."

"Sure you did," Mabel laughed. Then she turned to Fiddleford and asked, "How's your memory today?"

"Better, thanks," he said.

Dipper was looking at Fiddleford in surprise. "Why are you here?" he asked and glanced at his Grunkle worriedly. He hoped Fiddleford hadn't told him anything that would get him and his sister into trouble. He'd promised to stay out of danger and he doubted taking on an evil cult counted as keeping that promise.

"I've been catching up with old friends and trying to remember a bit more about my past," Fiddleford told him.

"He came round and wasn't screaming nonsense for once," Stan said, shooting Fiddleford and apologetic look, "Nerd… I mean, Fiddleford and I used to be friends a long time ago."

Dipper opened his mouth to ask something but Stan interrupted before he had a chance and said accusingly, "What happened to Fiddleford is one of the reasons I made you promise to stop looking for trouble. You think I want the same thing to happen to you? I don't think your parents would be very happy with me if you came back at the end of the summer with no memories and building giant killer robots. I thought you said you were going to play laser tag with Soos."

"Um, it was closed?" Dipper said turning red.

"I'll be on my way then," Fiddleford said, standing up to leave, "it was nice catching up, Stanford."

"What?" Stan asked distractedly, "no way are you going back to that junk yard."

"Well, where else am I supposed to go?" Fiddleford asked laughing, "I burnt all my bridges a long time ago."

"You can stay here if course," he said rolling his eyes, "honestly, Nerd, you can be a real idiot sometimes. As if I'd let you keep living in that place."

Dipper and Mabel were both looking between their Grunkle and Fiddleford curiously now. Stan suddenly seemed to remember that they were there and he quickly added, "I mean, not for free obviously but I've seen you create stuff out of practically nothing. This old place is falling apart; if you can fix stuff around the shack and help with some of the exhibitions then you can stay."

"I…" Fiddleford didn't know what to say to express how grateful he was. In the end all he could say was, "Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

"Great!" Dipper said seeing an opportunity to avoid getting into any more trouble, "Mabel and I will just head back to the dump, get McGucket's stuff and…"

"Nice try, kid," Stan interrupted, "but you and your sister are both grounded for the rest of the week."

They both groaned, "But Grunkle Stan…" Mabel started to say.

"No buts. I don't know what you've been up to," he said playing dumb, "but it's clearly been dangerous. Get your backsides up those stairs right now and don't come down. _I'll_ help Fiddleford move his stuff. If I find out you've left your room while I'm gone, your summer won't be worth living."

_Sorry,_ Fiddleford mouthed at the twins behind Stan's back as they turned grumbling and headed for the stairs.

"Come on, Nerd," Stan said once they'd gone, "let's get your things."

"You shouldn't be so hard on them," Fiddleford said following Stan as he led the way out of the living room, "they were only trying to help. It's my fault they were anywhere near the Society of the Blind Eye… or that it existed at all. God I'm so sorry, Stan."

"Quit apologising, Nerd," Stan said rolling his eyes, "they didn't need your help to get into trouble."

They walked into the gift shop and Stan stopped when he saw Wendy sitting behind the counter reading a magazine, "And where were you earlier?"

"Went to the toilet and when I came back the shop was closed," Wendy said not looking up, "I'm meant to be working and I'm here so I still get paid, right?"

"You're lucky I pay you at all. You've never done a decent day's work in your life," Stan said annoyed, "go home, the Mystery Shack's closed for the rest of the day. If you turn up on time tomorrow I might not dock you a day's pay for being rude."

"_Sweet!_" Wendy said grinning as she threw aside the magazine she'd been pretending to read. She knew he'd never follow threw on his threat no matter what he said. She caught sight of Fiddleford behind Stan and smiled, "Yo McGucket, how's it hanging?"

"Umm good?" he hazarded and Wendy gave him the thumbs up.

"Can I use the phone to call my friends for a lift?" she asked turning her attention back to Stan.

"Sure, whatever," he said, "anything to make you leave quicker."

Stan and Fiddleford set off for the car again.

"I don't speak teenager," Fiddleford said once they were outside, "what was she asking me?"

"God only knows," Stan said, "I _think_ she was asking you how you were."

"Oh, okay then."

When they reached the car Fiddleford stopped as he was hit by another memory, "What happened to your motorbike?" he asked.

"Sold it," Stan said opening the door and slipping into the driver's seat. Fiddleford got in a second later and buckled himself into the passenger side.

As Stan tried to get the engine to turn over Fiddleford said, "But you loved that thing."

"I needed the money," Stan said turning the key again. He grumbled when the engine only made a groaning sound each time it failed to start. In frustration he hit the dashboard and yelled, "START YOU USELESS PIECE OF JUNK!" As if it had heard him, the engine finally turned on.

Stan reversed and, as they set off, he said, "I was going to lose the Shack. The money I got from selling the motorbike let me keep it just long enough to turn it into a successful tourist trap."

"I'm sorry you've been struggling with money," Fiddleford said, "I should have been there to help."

"Gees Nerd, you gotta stop saying that," Stan said. They hit a bump and the car flew several feet into the air before crashing down again, "Not everything is your fault and that sure as hell wasn't. Stuff happened and I dealt with it. Everyone has money troubles sometimes. The Mystery Shack makes enough money to pay the bills so I don't have to worry about it anymore. It's not like I ended up living in the town junkyard or anything," he teased.

"When did I first start living there?" Fiddleford asked, "The last thirty years have been a bit of a blur but I remember bits of them better than my life before."

"Twenty eight or twenty nine years ish," Stan said with a sigh, "you went downhill pretty quickly."

They both fell silent and after a while Stan put on the radio. When they reached the dump Stan helped Fiddleford put his few possessions into the back of the car.

"Are you sure about me staying at the Shack?" Fiddleford asked as he put a box of tools onto the back seat, "I don't want to be a bother."

Stan gave him a pitying look as his heart gave a painful twinge of sadness, "What do I have to say to make you believe that I _want_ you around? You're not a bother, you're my friend and I want you back. I watched you go mad. Just let me be around to help you get back on your feet."

Fiddleford could feel his eyes starting to water. He rubbed at his eyes, desperately trying to clear them before any tears could fall. Unfortunately Stan noticed. He put down the box he'd been carrying and pulled Fiddleford into a much gentler hug than the one he'd given him earlier.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," he said awkwardly patting Fiddleford on the back. Fiddleford's body started to shake as he began to cry uncontrollably. Stan, who was the first to admit that he'd never been any good at offering comfort, started to panic, "Don't cry! I promise you that you'll be alright."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Fiddleford said between sobs, "I was a coward who ran away and drove myself mad. Why don't you hate me?"

"You weren't a coward and you didn't run away," Stan said fiercely, "I drove you away, okay? I was angry and hurting and I needed someone to blame. You were the only one around. I didn't mean what I yelled at you, I was just angry but you believed me. The next time I saw you, you didn't even know who I was. I realised what I'd done but it was too late. I've never forgiven myself for what I made you do."

Fiddleford continued to cry. Stan led him back into his old home in the junkyard. It was almost empty of Fiddleford's things now but he found a chair and sat down pulling Fiddleford with him and sitting him on his knee. He started patting Fiddleford's back again as reassuringly as he could.

Fiddleford barely weighed anything at all. He was all skin and bones. Stan couldn't help wondering how he'd lasted so long without a proper home, warm clothes or food. By all rights Fiddleford should have starved to death or died of exposure years ago. Stan hugged him a little closer, tears threatening in his own eyes.

It took a long time but eventually Fiddleford had cried all the tears he could. He didn't feel any better. He just felt hollow and empty inside.

"No matter what you say, we both know I was a coward," he said in an emotionless voice, "I chose to forget rather than deal with what had happened. Nobody made me do it. I was had a wonderful wife, a son who depended on me, fr…" he stopped short, "did I have friends other than you and Stanley?" he shrugged, "doesn't matter. The point is, I had people who needed me but I was selfish and weak. I let everyone down.

"I'm sorry for what I did, Stanford," he continued, "don't tell me not to say it because I'm never going to stop being sorry. The only reason I came to visit you today was to tell you how sorry I am. You don't owe me anything other than contempt and hatred but you've chosen to help me instead. I can't ever make up for what I did but I swear that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make amends to you and everyone else that I hurt."

"I don't want anything from you, Nerd," Stan said his voice breaking, "I just want you to be safe and well. I just want my friend back."

"That's the thing, Stanford," Fiddleford said in a voice that was still devoid of emotion, "I'm never going to be that person again. Even if I somehow remember everything one day, I can't get back to who I used to be. That person died the first time I erased my memory. I'm nothing more than a ghost of that person now and that's all I'll ever be."


End file.
